Frank Bailey checks into a hotel for just one night. In the morning, he tries to check out but no matter which road he takes, it always leads him back. >As the hours pass, he listens, observes, and collects pieces of other guests' stories, each one a mirror, each one a clue. One afternoon, as the day slips into night, he opens his journal. Some doors only open when we're finally honest with ourselves. Sometimes, before we can leave, we have to understand why we stay.
Prijshistorie
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